


Daddy's Home

by callmeb, Oddfront



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Plug, Belly Bulging, Dirty Talk, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Sibling Incest, Teasing, Underage Sex, daddycest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeb/pseuds/callmeb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddfront/pseuds/Oddfront
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been too damn long as far as Sam and Dean are concerned; Dad’s been away on hunts nonstop and finally, he’s promised them a weekend, just the three of them and no hunts. The boy’s are excited and can’t wait, but then John takes a phone call and a hunt.</p><p>“I’ll be back tonight.” It’s a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy's Home

**Author's Note:**

> So this is our first collab and we worked hard so we hope you enjoy the porn!

The air is heavy with the smell of the food Dean is cooking. Sammy sits at the kitchen table, hunched over his homework. John sits back in his chair and watches his boys; they’re both tense with anticipation for tonight.

John had gotten back from his hunt to the slightly less run down than usual house earlier in the day. He had taken a nap to catch up on sleep while the boys were at school. He wanted to be rested for them; for last few weeks he had been hunting practically nonstop. There hadn't been much time for them to spend together, and John had promised them a hunt free weekend.

Sammy had the biggest smile and Dean had a soft grin on his face when they saw John sitting on the couch when they got home. His youngest, full of energy, did a flying tackle over the sofa arm and landed haphazardly in John's lap. Dean was more reserved, but still exuberant as he flopped down next to John and Sam.

The house phone rings once and stops, pulling John from thoughts of his sons. Dean tenses at the stove, and Sam's fingers tighten around his pencil. John waits… and sighs as the damnable thing rings again.

As John sets the phone back into its cradle, a book is slammed shut. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, John readies himself to face his boys. He doesn’t want to face them, but he’s always told them if you make a decision you have to face the consequences, for better or worse. This decision is going to go over like a lead balloon.

He turns on his heel, leaning against the counter for support and setting his hands on the edge beside his hips. He hates disappointing his sons, but there’s a spirit about an hour away that needs its bones salted and burned.

His eyes meet Dean’s over Sam’s head; his oldest gives him a quirk of the lips, but his green eyes are dull with resignation. Dean understands what is out there and that it needs taking care of. But understanding does not mean it doesn’t hurt when John chooses a hunt over a promise to them. After a second, Dean nods and turns back to finishing dinner, but his shoulders are a drooping line.

Worse, is when his gaze meets Sam’s. Several emotions are going to war over Sam’s young face, disappointment being the least volatile, and John feels each one like a punch to the gut.

“Sammy,” he begins, but is cut off by the scrape of chair legs on sticky linoleum. Sam shuffles his papers and books together quickly and hurries out of the kitchen. John sighs and pushes off the counter.

“I’ll go after him,” Dean meets him at the door out of the kitchen.

John looks at his oldest and grimaces; Dean is always the one to go after Sammy. He wraps an arm around his son’s shoulders and pulls him into his side.

Dean’s arm goes around his father’s waist and rests his head on one broad shoulder. He smiles when his forehead is kissed and tilts his face up for a proper one. John obliges his boy and presses his lips to Dean’s in a chaste kiss.

His arm drops, grabbing a handful of his son’s firm ass. He grins and presses another quick kiss to Dean’s mouth. “You’re gonna burn dinner,” he murmurs huskily, spinning his son around and slapping the boy’s rear.

John stands in front of the closed door to the boys’ room. It’s hardly ever shut, but he gives the wooden barrier a knock before reaching for the handle. The damn thing is locked. John frowns; locks in their life are meant as more of a courtesy than as a real means to keep each other out. It takes less than a second for him to pick it and let himself into the dark room.

The room is small, mostly taken up by the queen size mattress the boys share; the one which Sam is hiding under the covers of. John’s long legs eat up the short distance between the door and the side of the bed closest to Sam, and he climbs up next to his boy.

“Sammy,” he whispers, nudging the lump of sullen 12 year old and blankets. The blankets huff in annoyance and John chuckles. “Come on, Sammy,” John’s hands worm their way inside the mess of covers and sheets and pull them away from his son. He lies on his side and pulls Sam into his chest.

Sam rubs his smooth cheeks against his father’s scruffy, whiskered ones. “You promised,” Sam says softly.

“I know, but I’m the closest hunter, and the ghost is terrorizing a couple with a baby. I can’t let them get hurt.” Sam just nods, knowing there isn’t anything he can say that will make his father stay.

“It’s an easy job; I’ll be back tonight,” John tells him with a kiss to the top of his hair. “And when I get back…” He trails off just to see Sam’s reaction.

Big puppy eyes stare up at him from under a fringe of dark hair, silently asking for the rest. John continues his silence and Sam whines, his small hands moving impatiently over his father’s chest. He is just about to whisper filthy nothings to Sam when a shadow from the hall crosses over the bed.

Dean is standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Come on, dinner’s gonna get cold if you two dawdle anymore.”

Dinner passes quiet and quick, John getting up as soon as his plate is clean. He gives Dean a quick kiss and a soft thank you for the meal before he grabs a duffle and heads for the door.

“Dean,”

Dean rolls his eyes, but goes along with the routine of listening and repeating what his father says for probably the millionth time. It’s changed a little over the years, but the ending is still the same. “Look after Sammy.”

***

Sam rinses his toothbrush before he puts it back in the cup next to Dean's. It seems to balance out the symmetry they have going on: one green toothbrush, one blue toothbrush; one green plug, one blue plug.

"Sammy, you're such a girl! You can admire your hair after I've finished," Dean teases, poking Sam in the ribs as he sidles up behind his brother at the sink. He presses his hips against Sam and runs his hands over the small chest.

"Dean!" Sam whines, half annoyed and half aroused. "I'm not a girl," he sulks, arching into Dean's hands.

Dean chuckles low in his throat. Bending down, he presses his lips right up against Sam's ear. "Well..." he whispers huskily, hand caressing a line down the center of Sam's soft tummy. His fingers gently cup and rub against his brother's little cock. "You don't shoot come like a boy, Sammy."

Sam shrugs Dean off. "You’re an asshole, Dean," he pouts, but settles easily when Dean's arms wrap around him.

Sam turns to face his brother; he curls his body into Dean's chest and tucks his head low until he can breathe hot against his shirt where his soft nipple hides. Dean ignores him at first; he knows Sam's just trying to get his attention. But then his little brother is snaking his tongue out, just barely dampening the fabric enough to soak into his skin, and sighs exaggeratedly until his nipple buds up. Dean bites his tongue to keep himself and his arousal under control.

At the rejection, Sam gives up, thumping his head with a huff against Dean’s chest. He pulls away to look at his plug forlornly; it's just sitting on the bathroom counter next to Dean's slightly bigger one. He feels so empty without it. He whines when Dean catches his hand as he reaches for the soft silicone toy. "Don't think about it, Sammy," Dean whispers comforting words against his little brother’s hair, one hand pulling Sam's head back to his chest.

“Can't you..." Sam trails off, looking up through his bangs with big puppy eyes.

Dean bites his lip at the look, feeling his body responding to a pleading Sammy.

"You know the rules, Sam, only Dad can put them in."

Sam arches into Dean's fingers as they card through his hair. He looks back over his shoulder to where his bright green plug sits; Dean's own blue one is a good two inches taller and much thicker.

"Dean?" He turns back to face his brother, fingers curling and uncurling in Dean's soft shirt, the one he wants to wear to sleep tonight.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean asks after a few moments when it doesn’t seem like Sam is going to continue on his own.

Sam moves further into Dean's body, tightening the arm he has around Dean's waist and nuzzling his brother's sternum. "I..." Sam swallows as he trails off, waiting for Dean to rib him about his embarrassment. "When do I get a bigger plug? Like yours?"

Dean chuckles and ruffles Sam's hair; he let his fingers caress through the soft strands and down the smooth neck. He moves down the front of Sam’s body to his slim waist, wiggling his fingers in between them to cup Sam's small erection. "When this," his fingers tighten and Sam's breathing hitches "gives me something to swallow." Dean grins wickedly at the blush racing across Sam's face. He lets go of Sam's smaller cock and lightly grips Sam's chin, pulling him into a soft kiss.

Side stepping and kissing Sam is an impressive feat, made more so as Dean maneuvers them both out of the bathroom and toward the bed in their room. They break the kiss as Sam falls backward on to the mattress.

Dean pulls Sam’s shirt off, tossing it in the direction of hamper. He takes his time admiring the small torso, the tiny pink nipples; he can’t resist tasting them. Sam arches into Dean’s mouth, whining slightly as his tender skin is sucked and bitten. His fingers scratch through the short dark blond strands at the nape of Dean’s neck and move down to yank at his brother’s shirt collar.

“Dean, come on, don’t be such a tease!”  Sam groans. Dean’s own fingers are stroking the skin of his stomach and moving steadily downward. “Please, Dean!” he whimpers as his brother strokes over his confined erection, slowly pulling the buttons of his jeans free.

“You’re getting all worked up, Sammy,” Dean whispers, pressing gentle kisses to Sam’s ribs and down the sides of his tummy. He nuzzles the hollow of his little brother’s belly button and flicks his tongue into it.

Sam arches and whimpers. “Dean! You’re gonna make me break the rules!”

Wicked, it’s really the only fitting description for the way Dean is looking at him right now. He’s looking up through his lashes, and how can he say Sam is a girl when he has eyelashes like that? His tongue is just peeking out from between his slightly parted lips, accentuating their fullness. It’s so horribly not fair that his big brother can look so damn… so damn… ugh!

“You won’t, Sammy,” Dean says with all the faith and confidence in the world in his statement and licks teasingly along the waistband of Sam’s jeans.

Sam whines, bucks his hips and reaches out for Dean. “If you make me come, Dean, Dad’s gonna be mad.”

Dean chuckles and starts tugging the denim down Sam’s skinny legs. “No he won’t, because you’re not going to come.” He gets a skeptical look from his brother; he likes to call this one Bitch Face 37, Sub Titled: Dean, You’re an Ass. It should not be confused with Bitch Face 21, Sub Titled: Dean, You’re an Asshole.

“Dean, you’re an ass,” Sam says, almost on cue.

Dean just grins and pulls off Sam’s underwear, sending them and the jeans in the same direction as the shirt. He teases Sam a bit more, just because it’s fun to see his baby brother writhe on the sheets under the soft caress of finger tips to his cock.

But it’s quickly getting to be too much for Sam’s young body and he pulls away. Disappointment and relief tangle together in the whine Sam gives Dean as he moves away.

Dean yanks his shirt up over his head and hands it to his brother. He watches as Sam brings it up to his face and breaths in, then pulls it over his head and pops his arms out through their respective holes.  The show really should not turn Dean on, but the sight of Sammy being naked besides Dean’s too-large shirt gives him shivers. He bites the inside of his cheek while shucking his jeans and then climbs into bed next to his Sammy.

Reaching over, Dean turns off the lamp and tugs the covers up over them. Once he’s settled onto his back, Sam immediately snuggles into his chest, head resting over Dean’s heart.

***

John gets home late, far too tired to do more than shuck out of smoke-scented clothing. He feels slightly better after running cool water on his face, but still doesn't have enough energy to take care of his boys the way he should. He feels his bed calling to him, but the two plugs standing tall in the bathroom mock him. He knows his boys were looking forward to their night together, and John feels he owes them for taking another hunt after promising not to.

When he checks on them, they're asleep, curled into one another, fingers pressed into bare skin. His boys have clung to each other since they were little. John feels a swell of pride at the sight of Dean wrapped around Sam, protecting his little brother even in sleep.

John sighs at the sight as guilt over another broken promise grips his insides like a vice. He turns back to the bathroom where the boys’ plugs wait and grabs them. He sits down on the edge of the bed where Sammy faces away from him. He places both toys on the night stand and digs through the drawer for the lube.

John pulls the blanket away from the bodies of his sons and chuckles. Why is he not surprised to see Sammy wearing Dean's t-shirt from today? He lifts the tail of the faded Metallica tee and groans at the sight of his younger son's pale bare bottom. His eyes glance at Dean and see his oldest wearing only a pair of tight black briefs. Damn, his boys know him well.

He feels a swell of heat low in his belly when he notices there's not even an inch between their bodies. Their legs are tangled together; Dean's thigh is firm against Sam's unclothed crotch. The young boy's cock pokes into his big brother's hip with wisps of leg hair on either side.

John reaches one hand out to touch his boys. He starts at Dean's knee and glides his fingers up until he has to wiggle them between the boy's leg and his brother's ass. After gently moving Dean's thigh down enough, he palms at Sam. His skin is warm and smooth; the boy still hasn't started growing hair yet. John cups his hand around his son's ball sac and presses up carefully. When Sam presses his face deeper into Dean's chest, John stills. He watches his boys' faces to make sure they haven't woken. When neither boy responds to his presence, John focuses back on their bodies.

He rubs again at Sam until he can see his little prick begin to thicken. John can't help but smile; his little boy has the cutest cock, barely bigger than his palm and easily stimulated. Sam is young enough that he never lasts long, but he is always eager for round two... and three and sometimes four. John is sure when his son starts filling into his body, his cock will thicken to a fairly decent size. After all, Winchester men have always been well-equipped.

It’s Dean that wakes up first, subconscious not perceiving a threat, he came to slowly instead of waking instantly. John takes it with pride that his boy still sees him as their protector; he had no doubts that if Dean didn’t, he would be facing the wrong end of a shotgun by now.

“Dad?” Dean’s voice is groggy from sleep, and it comes out raspy.

“Yeah, son,” John acknowledges, lacing the fingers of his free hand with the ones Dean has resting over Sam’s side. Their fingers tighten together in a squeeze and then loosen, John’s hand dropping away.

“How’d it go?” Dean asks, pulling himself up to lean on his elbow.

John chuckles tiredly, “Text book.” He removes his hand from between his boys, pops the cap on the bottle of lube, and coats his fingers.

Dean shakes his head, “So you got thrown around a bit and then got the son of a bitch.” He reaches down and pulls Sam’s leg up to rest high on his waist, giving their dad better access to Sammy’s little pucker.

John snorts, “Yeah.” He really is amazed by just how well his boy knows him. They share a look over Sam, and Dean grins wickedly. John huffs a laugh and presses the tip of his index finger to Sam’s entrance with a nod.

“Sammy,” Dean coos, gently nudging his brother out of his dreams. “Come on, Sammy, wake up for me.” He’s leaning over, breathing into Sam’s ear and nipping at the shell. He moves the hand that's draped over Sam up his brother's back, making the shirt ride up. “Sammy, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Sam whines and grumbles as he slowly comes to. If Dean’s waking him just to be a tease… there may not be a rock on this Earth for his brother to hide under. “Dean?” he mumbles sleepily. “Dean wha-!” Sam cuts himself off with a shout as something shoves deep into his ass. He’s not given much time to recover or question as what Sam’s mind is identifying as a finger thrusts in and out of him. He whimpers and clings to Dean, tightening his leg around his brother’s waist and pushing his hips back to meet the finger.

It isn’t until a second one is begging entrance that Sam notices something is not quite right. One of Dean’s arms is pillowing his head; a second one is rubbing circles on his back… a third one is…

“Daddy?”  Sam whips his head around and stares. Their dad looks a little worse for wear, exhausted and fading fast, but still here. Still trying to keep his promise to them; it makes Sam smile.

John grins back at his youngest. That smile helps to keep him going, like he’s pulling energy from it. “Come on, baby boy, on your back and spread ‘em.”

When John spills lube on Sam’s green plug, he whimpers in anticipation. This is both his favorite and his least favorite part. Sam loves being filled. He loves having his toy pressing against all his walls, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine whenever he moves more than an inch. But even though his dad has taken time to stretch him open, it always tugs him with a sting as the toy gets worked inside him.

He takes comfort in Dean. His big brother soothes him best in every other situation; this one is no different.

“You ready, Sammy?” his father asks after returning the bottle of lube to the table beside the bed.

Sam chews his lower lip with a nod. He spreads his legs wider with his knees bent and turns his upper body to face Dean. He buries his head into Dean’s neck and digs his fingers into the corded muscles of Dean’s shoulders. Dean turns his face to press a kiss into Sam’s hair and whisper in his ear.

“You’re ready, Sammy. Dad stretched you all open. It’s gonna slide in you and feel so good. Right?” His voice is soft, and his breath tickles the inside of Sam’s ear.

“Yeah, Dean,” he sighs out, loosening his body. He feels his dad press the silicone plug between his wet cheeks and squeezes Dean’s shoulders.

“Good, Sammy. It won’t take long, baby brother.” Dean lowers his lips enough to press kisses to Sam’s cheek, making sure his little brother’s lips are near his ear. Dean listens intently as Sam lets out a gasp when their dad finally begins pushing the boy inside him.

With every inch, their dad kisses Sam’s body, on his ass cheek or the inside of his thigh, or he’ll nuzzle Sam’s little cock with his scruffy chin to distract the boy. And with every inch, Sam gasps and lets out these little half choked cries, wet with the saliva of his throat, right into Dean’s ear.

The sound is so soft, yet so loud, when his little brother’s lips are right there, right by his face, accompanied with digs of small fingertips into his bare shoulders.

When their dad pauses after inching half the toy inside Sam, he wiggles the base from side to side, stretching the boy’s opening for the fat bulb of the plug. Dean feels the groan build up in Sam’s chest before it leaves his throat. The sound that passes his lips is loud and rumbling, and it barely makes sense that such a deep noise can come from such a small body.

“It’s almost all the way in, Sammy. You’re doing so good for us. Open up for it, baby,” John coaxes. He kisses close to his son’s opening, letting his nose nuzzle along the back of Sam’s ball sac as he rocks the plug another inch deeper.

“Give me your leg, Sam. Let Dad put it all the way in.” Sam moans whenever he feels it move and pants when his dad holds the toy still to let him adjust. He lifts his leg up towards his body until he feels Dean wrap long fingers around the back of his knee. Dean pulls up until he can hook Sam’s leg with his elbow near his chest and his body is wide open for his toy.

“Good boy,” Dean praises as his scratches his fingernails along the back of Sam’s thigh.

John’s got the bulb of the plug pushing Sam’s muscle, trying to pass. He can see every slip of where the bright green disappears behind blush red skin.

“Almost, son. Just this last part and you’ll be all full,” he reassures. He pushes slowly, rubbing and tugging at the stretched out skin until his son yells as the largest part gets sucked inside his body and the neck of his toy disappears. The flared base of green is all that is visible, and it hides the red aggravated skin of his little hole.

Sam’s entire body is tense once it’s fully seated inside him, and he breathes heavily into Dean’s neck. It takes a few minutes for him to get used to the burn of his toy holding his ass open and pushing against all his inner walls without relent. But Dean coos into his hair and rubs rough hands along his leg and side, and his dad whisks his beard over sensitive skin until the younger boy relaxes.

As soon as his body turns lax, Sam moans; he raises his hips, and the sweet sound pours out of him, “Oh God.”

“You feel better, Sammy?” Dean asks with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Sam breathes.

“Finally got your little ass all full of your toy, holding you open, pushing your insides?” Dean’s words are hot on Sam’s skin as he brings a hand down to press the plug firmly inside his brother.

“Yeah,” he squeaks this time. “I’m so full, Dean. Thank you, Daddy. It feels so good.”

“You always take that whole thing so well, kiddo.” John brings himself up on the bed until he hovers over their bodies.

“He wants a bigger one, Dad,” Dean mentions while squeezing Sam’s ass cheek.

“A bigger one?” His son still takes time getting this one inside him; how can he be asking for something bigger?

“Yeah. Sammy is jealous that mine’s bigger.” Sam huffs when Dean pokes his cheek with his nose, but doesn’t say anything because Dean is kneading the meat of his ass, pulling skin away from the plug so it settles differently inside him. “I told him that when he starts coming like us, you’ll get him a bigger one.”

John mulls it over for a moment. He’s worried about Sam asking for more than he can take. But then again, the boy has taken his cock a hundred times, and he’s both bigger and longer than Dean’s plug. He supposes it’s a fair deal, though; his youngest maybe has a year or two before he hits puberty.

“Sounds like a good idea. Okay, Sam? When your balls make come, I’ll get you one like your brother’s. Maybe one that will press against your prostate, so it will milk all the come out of your cock when you wear it to bed.”

“Daddy!” he whines out, and his father smiles at him. Just the thought of spilling like his brother excites Sam; the thought of spilling constantly makes a wave of need arch through his entire body.

With a chuckle, John leans down to kiss Sam softly. He licks and nips and breathes in the scent of shampoo in his hair. When he feels something wet against his cheek, he turns he head to meet Dean’s lips. The older boy is just as soft, and sighs when John slips his tongue into his awaiting mouth.

It damn near breaks John to have to pull away from his son’s plush lips. But there is only so far Dean can twist his head to follow when John pulls off his black briefs and moves to lay behind his boy.

Dean is quick to snuggle back against John’s bare chest, dragging Sammy with him and causing the younger boy to keen as the movement shifts the plug. Dean chuckles darkly and drums two fingers against the plug’s base. It causes a high-pitched whimper as Sam shudders.

John smirks at his oldest, knowing the boy’s gotten so wrapped up in teasing his younger brother that he’s forgotten Daddy is behind him. He eases Dean’s top leg so it’s resting over Sam’s legs, gently so as not to bring attention. His fingers are still slick with lube from Sam, but he adds a little more anyway.  He surprises Dean with two fingers pushed fully into his hole.

Dean yelps in shock but recovers quickly, pressing his hips back against his dad’s hand. His body isn’t like Sam’s unyielding one; his muscles relax into the intrusion and want more.

“Dad,” Dean pleads, thrusting his hips and trying to fuck himself on those big fingers. “Daddy, more.”

It’s all John can do not to fuck Dean right then and there; his oldest has a way of pushing his buttons. He thinks it’s probably because Dean follows him without question or complaint. So when Dean does ask for something, John knows that his son really wants it.

“Dean,” he breathes out against the shell of his boy’s ear, “You want it bad, don’t you, son?”

Dean nods his head jerkily, whining out a yes. Sammy chooses that moment to take his revenge and starts licking and sucking on Dean’s nipples. It causes him to arch his back almost violently, hand clamping on the back of Sam’s neck, ass pushing back hard against John’s hands, muscles clenching tightly around the fingers inside.

“You close to coming, little boy?” John asks and crooks his fingers, searching for his son’s prostate.

Dean almost bucks, crying out when John finds it. “Yes, Daddy, please!”

At the admission, John slowly pulls his fingers out of his boy’s twitching hole and grabs for the lube.

“No…” Dean’s whine is wretched as even Sam pulls away from tormenting his chest.

“Shhh, Dean,” John soothes, shifting to kneel on the bed.

Sam pulls Dean further onto his stomach, rubbing his brother’s back and whispering nonsensical sounds against the smooth expanse of neck.

John grabs one roaming hand and guides it to pull Dean’s cheek out of the way, exposing the boy’s wet pink hole. It twitches and clenches as it’s subjected to the cooler air of the room. John lightly rubs the tip of his index finger over the puckered skin and slips the digit inside. He hooks the muscle and pulls it away from Sam’s hand, making Dean gape slightly. He pours some lube into the hole, watching as a trickle runs over the rim.

Retrieving the toy from the nightstand, John lazily works the plug into his oldest. The plug is shaped differently from Sam’s smaller one. It has three cock heads stacked on top of one another, each one gradually getting bigger in size. The first head is always the easiest, Dean’s hole hungrily swallowing it up until the tip of the second head kisses his entrance. John uses just a hint of pressure to slide that one in as well. It’s the third head that always needs a bit of coaxing and twisting and pushing.

Dean’s practically sobbing as his fingers scrabble in the sheets and pillows for some kind of an anchor as he’s opened up. His wail is muffled by Sam’s shoulder when the largest part of his plug settles inside him, the base smoothly fitting against his taint and sitting comfortably in the cradle of his ass cheeks.

Sam caresses Dean’s side, nuzzling his older brother’s cheek in search of a kiss. It takes Dean a few moments to recover before meeting Sam’s lips with his own.

John runs his palms over the skin of Dean’s thighs and hips. He gives his oldest a few more moments to adjust to the fullness, and then delivers a quick smack across the pale globes. Dean scream’s as the plug hits his prostate, causing him to rock his hips into Sam, who in turn whimpers and thrusts up as his own plug is jostled. The cycle continues for a few revolutions, John dazedly watching his boy’s become each other’s tormentor. They’re whimpering pitifully as he pulls them apart; they’ve gotten too close to the edge, and he doesn’t want them coming tonight.

He pulls Dean’s briefs back up his son’s slim legs as he takes his time soothing them both with tired little kisses and soft touches. While Dean gets worked up the fastest, he also has the restraint to make it last, unlike Sammy, who does not like to be denied. Which is why when John leaves, the boy’s are spooning with Dean holding both of Sam’s hands in one of his to keep his baby brother from reaching out to finish the job.

John falls into bed, barely raising the covers up to his waist. His hand lingers there; he's so tired, but taking care of his boys has worked him up something fierce. He slips his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, just to tease himself a little bit more. He pictures his boys as his fingertips brush the skin of his shaft. He shifts his shoulders, getting comfortable and settling more into the mattress. He eases into his fantasy, imagining Dean, manhandling his oldest onto hands and knees.

He likes to fuck Dean first. Even though Sam is rutting on the bed, desperate and needy, John likes to work his way towards his younger son. Dean’s ass is so perfectly stretched out from his plug; the toy really preps him for being taken. But Sam, Jesus, that kid’s little hole is as resilient as he is. As soon as John pulls the plug from Sam’s ass, his muscles are clenching, closing back up and tightening to a little pucker. When John slides into his younger boy, it’s going to be work to force his cock in his small frame all the way to the base. Sam will take every inch, there’s no doubt, but John knows if he tried to fuck Sam before Dean, he’ll lose his load way too early.

John falls asleep like that, to the image of Dean fucked out and Sam whimpering and squirming on his cock. His hand is still in his boxers, wrapped around his shaft.

***

Dean wakes slowly in the morning. The sunrise warms his face from the window at the far wall, and Dean finally cracks his eyes open to peer at Sam. His little brother is pressed firmly against his front, body warm and soft in his arms, their fingers laced together at Sam’s chest. Dean hums happily as he snuggles closer to the mop of hair in his face and deeply breathes in his brother’s scent.

When he curls his legs further along with Sam’s, the feeling of solid pressure inside him makes Dean moan. Pressing the quickly growing bulge in his briefs forward, he feels the flat base of Sam’s plug snug between their bodies. Excitement for the day bubbles in Dean’s chest; it’s been too long since Dad last had this much time to spend with them, and just the prep of last night was a long overdue pleasure.

Dean’s gentle nudge at Sam’s bare bottom doesn’t wake his younger brother, and when Dean notices the radio clock on the bedside table, he realizes it’s far too early to be conscious. Which means Sam won’t wake up soon and worse, Dad won’t be up either.

But need builds up in Dean’s body. With every twitch, the plug moves just enough to touch a different part of his inner walls. With every passing minute, his body knows it will be touched and teased and taken by his father. With every soft sigh and murmur of a dream from his little brother, his cock grows harder because that body is right there, so close and soft and sweet. Dean knows it will be awhile before his father comes to their room to take care of them, and he figures he might as well do something to pass the time.

Knowing that Dean would follow orders, John came up with rules for his boys. When he’s out on a hunt, Sam and Dean are not allowed to touch their toys, not allowed to put anything in their pretty little assholes. Also knowing that they are horny little boys, he concedes that they can swallow each other’s cock and jerk each other until they come, but those pretty little holes are for Daddy.

When Daddy is home though, they play by a different set of rules. Daddy fills up their tight little holes with plugs. But they can’t touch them – either their own or each other’s. They aren’t allowed to suck cock; no licking them either, John still can’t believe he was arguing semantics with his youngest on that rule. No coming – not without Daddy’s permission, which means not without Daddy making them come. But they can touch. They can pet and rub and kiss and tease each other stupid with want.

Dean unwinds his slender fingers from Sam’s chubby short ones and moves Sam’s hands away from his chest. He tucks his head between Sam’s neck and shoulders to see his little brother’s body rise and fall with each breath. Slowly, he lets a finger run across the fabric of his Metallica shirt until he feels the soft nub of skin. He scratches a circle around Sam’s nipple through the material, and then another circle, until he feels the bump harden. His little brother doesn’t wake.

He whispers his brother’s name across the warm skin of his throat, circling his nail around the other nipple and then flicking at the tip of the hard bud. He keeps the rest of his body still, refusing to rock his erection into Sam’s plug because he doesn’t want to wake the younger boy. Dean thinks the kid looks so innocent when he’s asleep with his young and small frame hidden in Dean’s t-shirt.

He continues touching Sam’s nipples; as horny as the teenager is, Dean is completely content holding his little brother, murmuring unheard words and feeling those little buds of skin beneath the shirt Sam wears as he sleeps.

But Sam will wake soon; Dean can feel the body in his arms shiver more with each firmer touch on his chest. He can hear Sam try to speak as his dreams meld into reality. And before Dean realizes it, he can feel the boy’s body shifting, back arching and ass grinding.

 “ _Jesus_ , Sammy,” Dean moans out when the base of Sam’s plug rubs against his cock. He’s quick to grab Sam by the waist and squeeze. He holds Sam tight against him until the boy can’t move his hips anymore. Sam fully wakes up with a whine.

“Dean,” he begs out. Sam digs his blunt fingernails into Dean’s forearm and tugs, but Dean doesn’t budge.

“No, Sammy. That’s not allowed and you know it.”

After a couple more useless tugs, Sam gives up and tries to push his chest into Dean’s fingers instead. He can’t let go of Sam’s waist or the boy will start thrusting again, and Dean always has a hard time denying his little brother of pleasure. But he continues gently rubbing Sam’s nipples and occasionally drops a chaste kiss to his neck.

“Shhh, baby. Daddy’s home. He’s gonna take care of us today. Got us all stretched open and plugged up already. You excited?” he soothes. Every word is a soft breath against Sam’s skin, as if speaking loudly would ruin the beauty of his little brother.

Sam shivers and moans. “Yeah. I wanted my plug so bad.” The boy loves his plug; if he could, Sam would probably try wearing it all day, through traveling and school and the occasional hunt he gets to help with. But their dad only puts their toys in at night, wanting them all stretched out – or as stretched as they can get – for his cock in the morning.

“I know you did, little brother. And now you’re all full,” Dean continues. Knowing Sam is distracted, he loosens his grip and pulls away from Sam enough to push his brother to his back. The clench of Sam’s jaw tells Dean that the movement jostles his plug. “Mph— yes,” Sam forces out.

“And Daddy’s gonna fuck us today.” These words are heavier, thicker with the heat of his breath as Dean tilts his head until his mouth hovers over the bud of Sam’s nipple.

“Uh-huh. Need Daddy.” Sam’s eyes are closed in anticipation.

“Yeah, little brother. Daddy’s cock is gonna fuck your ass soon.” Dean flattens his tongue out over the t-shirt, wet with saliva, and he presses against the hard skin until the material is soaked through. “Mmm, yeah. Dean, please.”

He points his tongue and dances the tip of the pink muscle around the center of Sam’s nipple, using one flat palm to keep the t-shirt stretched across the place he plays. “Please what, Sammy?” He drops his lips to fully cover the wet spot, adding the warmth of his mouth. Flicking the little bud as soon as Sam’s lips open, instead of words, Sam’s voice is a gasp.

When he tries to speak a second time, Dean sinks his teeth in just enough to make the boy squeak a few octaves too high. Dean chuckles while Sam whines and doesn’t try to speak again.

He lifts his leg over Sam, slowly raising himself up to hover over his baby brother on hands and knees. He pauses, breathing heavy as his muscles stretch and pull around the toy inside him. As the plug settles in its new position, he pulls his lips from Sam, admiring the soaked spot covering Sam’s nipple.

Dean’s shirt cover’s Sam’s body loosely and reaches half way down the boy’s thighs. And that little cock is hidden beneath the shirt. It’s that pointed bump in the fabric between Sam’s legs. That warm tent that twitches when Dean teases Sam.  He lifts the shirt up to the bottom of Sam’s ribs, trailing his fingers over the soft skin.

Sam peers up at him, mouth open with puffs of air slowly drying his pink lips. He’s wide-eyed with innocent need – how the boy can pull that off, Dean will never know. And Dean can’t help but stare; his eyes linger on each part of Sam’s body: his young, round face; his long throat; half his shoulder visible past the wide opening of the shirt’s neck. The material loosely conforms to his baby brother’s chest, rising and falling with every breath, and Dean’s eyes move down the stomach to his little cock and legs.

“Dean,” he finally breathes out with a wiggle of his body after minutes of silence.

“You know, Sammy,” Dean starts with a smile, eyes only glancing at Sam’s face before returning to his lower body. “You have the cutest little cock I’ve ever seen.”

“Deeeaannn,” Sam whines, embarrassed. Dean loves to do this, talk about Sam’s little boy cock and make him blush all kinds of red. Sam moves his hands from the sheets to his body in attempt to hide his small erection, but Dean catches both wrists and brings them up above Sam’s head. He leans close to Sam’s face, kissing his lips and cheek, trying to prove his sincerity. “No, baby boy. Stay like this for me,” he whispers softly, pressing another kiss to Sammy’s lips.

He drags one hand down Sam’s arm, pinching his dry nipple and tickling his side until his fingers stop at Sam’s hip. “Look at it. All small and hard. Wanting attention.” His touch is reverent but teasing as his fingers move closer and press into the meat of Sam’s thigh, making Sam buck his hips with a grunt.

“You know what the cutest thing about your pretty prick is, though?” He pulls his shirt back down and touches Sam’s cock through it; he lets his palm run over the bulge and presses down until Sam’s cock lays flat against his body. Dean can’t stop smiling when Sam whimpers and bucks his hips again, making himself cry out.

“The cutest thing about my baby brother’s little boy cock,” he pauses again and rubs the material of his shirt up and down Sam’s prick. He stares at Sam until the boy meets his gaze, “is how I can rub you all I want, and your little dick stays dry.”

“De,” Sam breathes out. Dean holds his brother’s eyes. “I can do anything I want to you, can’t I? And this pretty little thing,” he grinds his palm down harder, “won’t make a mess on my shirt.”

“De... Dean, please. Don’t make me… I’ll get in trouble, Dean.” Sam’s fingers claw into Dean’s hand above his head; the thin muscles of his arms shake. “Hush, baby boy. It’s okay.” Dean kisses Sam’s lips once.

“You won’t come, sweet boy. Just let me play with you,” he whispers hotly against Sam’s lips and kisses the boy again. Sam tilts his head forward to deepen the kiss and licks at Dean’s lips. Dean slows his movements to focus on kissing his brother and calming the boy down.

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy,” Dean pulls away when his brother stops shaking on the edge of orgasm. He keeps his palm soft on the bulge of Sam’s cock. “You have no idea how good you look like this,” he drops his forehead to Sam’s.

“So beautiful, wearing nothing but my shirt. Your little body hidden because it’s too big for you. Your cock sticking out right here.” He holds Sam’s dick up with a thumb and forefinger and runs the fabric up and down his shaft. Sam breathes shakily, and Dean can see him fighting to keep his eyes open to watch. “You like this, Sammy? You like how your big brother’s shirt feels rubbing on your dry little cock?”

“Yes!” Sam squeaks out. Dean can feel the heat radiating from his brother’s cheeks; it’s too easy to make the boy blush. And Sam red-faced and sweet beneath him has Dean’s cock leaking in his black briefs and fighting the urge to rub up against him.

Dean returns to palming Sam’s dick flat and continues to whisper husky words across Sam’s face. “You should keep it on when Daddy fucks you. You’ll look so cute, Sammy, stuffed full of Daddy’s cock. Daddy pounding into you. Big brother’s shirt hanging off your hot little body.”

Sam cries out and tries to pull his hands out of Dean’s grasp, but Dean doesn’t relent. He takes Sam’s lips with his own to swallow the sound. When he pulls back, he moves back down to Sam’s chest and nuzzles his nose against the drying patch of his saliva from before.

His voice scratches past his throat as he speaks up. “Fuck, Sammy, can’t wait. Gonna look so sexy, little brother. And I’ll tell Daddy to rub your dry little cock with it. You want that?”

He licks, rewets his shirt and grinds his tongue at Sam’s nipple and Sam groans. Dean’s hand is too light across Sam’s cock, and he tries to thrust up for more pressure, but Dean pulls his hand away, refusing to touch his cock again until Sam stays still.

The whine from Sam makes Dean moan into his chest. He wants so badly to touch and push and pull and twist the plug inside Sam, to force more of those sounds out. But he can’t do that without his Dad’s permission, so he settles for kissing his way down Sam’s body, letting Sam’s wrist free so the boy can curl his fingers in Dean’s hair. He rests his cheek at Sam’s hip, and watches his little brother’s dick twitch beneath his palm.

“Want Daddy to rub your little boy prick with it while he fucks your tight asshole?”

Sam tries opening his legs and pushing Dean’s face towards his crotch. Dean lets him, and the boy’s legs stretch Dean’s shirt across the V of his thighs. He pulls his hand away from Sam’s cock and hovers his mouth there instead, wrapping his arms around Sam’s legs. He presses a kiss to the tip of Sam’s cock.

“Dean! I need… Want it, Dean,” Sam whines, unable to form a complete sentence. Dean opens his mouth and breathes hot against him, chuckling when Sam tries to cant his hips up. “Please,” he begs, and Dean groans with the pain of not licking and sucking that pretty little bulge.

“You know I can’t do that, Sammy. When Daddy gets up, he’ll take care of us,” Dean soothes with another soft touch of lips. Sam bites his lip before sucking in a breath and shyly asking, “Will Daddy lick it?” and Dean is picturing his dad’s head right there between Sam’s legs, like he does every time they’re together.

“Mmm, of course, baby boy. Daddy will get your dick all wet with his mouth.” He kisses all along the line of Sam’s cock from tip to base with a closed mouth. He presses his face into the stretched part of the shirt to kiss Sam’s small ball sac and rubs back and forth while Sam whines and rambles and squirms. “Dean! Need that. Need Daddy. Need it now, Dean, please!”

“Daddy will be up soon,” Dean says between kisses, but Sam doesn’t want to wait any longer. “No, Dean. Let’s go to Daddy.”

Dean rests his chin in the line between Sam’s pelvis and leg and looks up at his brother. “He’s not awake, Sammy.”

“Don’t care. Need Daddy now, Dean.” Sam is desperate. Dean’s arms are tight around his legs to keep Sam from thrusting up and moving his plug too much. He knows Sam is likely to lose control if the silicone inside him keeps hitting his sweet spot, and he won’t let his little brother break the rules.

Dean considers him for a minute. “You need it that bad? You need Dad to suck your dick, Sammy?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please!” he yanks at Dean’s hair until the older boy has no choice but to be pulled back up Sam’s body. Dean gets an idea as he allows his kid brother to manhandle him into a sloppy kiss.

“You know what we should do?” he smirks. “We should sneak in to Daddy’s room…”

“Yes. Daddy, need Daddy,” Sam rants. He shoves their mouths together and tries to push them into a sitting position at the same time. Dean pushes their cocks together when a bulb from his plug rubs against his prostate, and both boys groan. Once they are vertical, Dean continues, “And then, we should sit you on Daddy’s chest…”

“Uh-huh,” Sam breathes. He tries to shimmy out from beneath his older brother, but Dean wraps his arms around the boy and murmurs the last part into the shell of Sam’s ear. “And get your little boy cock in Daddy’s mouth.”

Sam’s entire body hiccups with a sob, and Dean pulls away to look at his brother’s needy face. He cards Sam’s damp hair out of his teary eyes with a reassuring smile, “You think we can do that? Think we can get your cock in Daddy’s mouth without waking him up?”

“Yeah,” Sam excitedly shakes his head with hopeful eyes, and Dean takes a moment more to admire his beautiful little brother before pulling away from the slender body. “C’mon, Sammy, let’s go.”

Dean eases himself off the bed, extremely cautious of trying not to jostle the plug in his ass too much. He holds out a hand for Sam and takes sadistic pleasure as he hauls his little brother none to gently out of bed.

Sam cries out, falling against Dean as his legs give out from the jolt that wreaks his body when his plug shifts violently against his prostate. He clings to Dean’s chest, whimpering as the aftershocks rock through him.

Dean holds Sam up, cooing into his hair and pressing kisses into the shaggy strands. He feels only slightly guilty as Sam steadies on his feet and shoots a glare at him. Dean gives him a crooked grin before leading his brother out into the hall.

They walk slowly and awkwardly, mostly because of the plugs and only partly because they can’t keep their hands and mouths off each other. “You’re even more bowlegged than normal,” Sam giggles; his hands move over Dean’s hips and down his thighs. He brings them back up to settle on Dean’s chest, thumbs rubbing circles around the dusky pink nipples.

Dean gives Sam a tight lipped look, but his little brother is leaning into him, angling his head for a kiss. He nips the soft lower lip first for Sam’s tease and then presses their lips together, his tongue begging entrance. His little brother opens up quickly, grinding his small prick into Dean’s thigh.

Sam makes these soft little sounds in the back of his throat when they break apart. “Dean! I need… So empty, Dean,” he whines into his brother’s collarbone.

Dean cranes his neck awkwardly so he can look down at his baby brother. “Empty? Baby you got your plug inside you,” he murmurs, bringing his hand up to tilt Sam’s head back so he can look into those puppy eyes.

Sam’s lower lip damn near quivers as he replies. “Need more, Dean. S’not big enough. Need more. Need Daddy. Wanna come, Dean!”

Sam arches in his arms, and Dean suddenly remembers his own need as their erections press and rub through their minimal clothing. They need to get to Dad’s room fast.

***

It’s the feeling of something not being quite right that wakes John. His instincts tell him it’s not danger, but something is out of the ordinary in his bedroom. He keeps his eyes shut and breathing steady, wanting to know more about whatever it is that invaded his room. There’s movement on his bed, and… his sons are whispering to each other; Sam’s higher pitched voice is giggling as quietly as a 12 year old can while Dean’s deeper voice is murmuring, “Keep it down, Sammy, we’ll wake Dad.”

John subtly opens one eye and finds himself faced with the smooth expanse of his older son’s back. He quickly tosses an arm around both boys and yanks them to him, Dean’s back meeting his chest while his boys are face to face. They both squeak and look at him with wide eyes.

“Too late, I’m up,” he grumbles, nosing Dean’s neck just under the hairline. Dean wriggles his ass back, gasping as his dad’s morning erection presses into the base of his underwear-clad plug. “I can tell,” he says smugly.

John lands a quick smack to the side of his boy’s ass, “Such cheek.”

His son groans at the light tap that causes his plug to shift inside him.

John glances at the clock blearily, only half rested from the late night hunt. The blinking red lights tell him to go back to sleep, but the warm bodies snuggling on their sides into his bed tell him there are better things to do than that.

With a loud stretch, he tosses his arm over Dean and traces his fingers along Sam’s hipbone. He feels the heat from both their bodies. He sees Sam’s little erection poking out and his kiss-red lips. They’ve been playing.

“What are you boys doing up so early?” John asks knowingly.

Sam looks to Dean and John’s older boy chuckles.

“Daddy,” he presses his ass back. “You took too long to wake up.”

“Did I?” John distractedly speaks. He brings his fingers back to his oldest, hooking his index around the elastic of Dean’s briefs and tugging down slowly. He sees Sam watching as the black material slides down Dean’s hip and pulls away long enough to crook his finger at Sam, urging the boy to help.

“Yeah,” Dean breathes, body stock still as John and Sam tug his underwear down his hips. His cock springs free and flops against Sam, making the boy gasp. Dean lifts himself from the bed until they’ve got his briefs at his thighs. John quickly pulls them the rest of the way off, giving himself a reason to grind into Dean’s ass as he reaches down his son’s legs. Dean groans and bucks forward into Sam, making his brother whimper.

They sound so sweet that John grinds into Dean once more as he quickly removes his own briefs. The following groan turns into a grunt and the whimper turns into a gasped whine; John sniggers, but stills himself to let his boy continue speaking.

“And we need you. _Sammy_ needs you.” Sam ducks his head into Dean’s shoulder when John stares at him expectantly. He knows Sam gets needier than Dean, and he wants to hear it. But he waits and Sam doesn’t speak up. It’s cute the way he still gets nervous, despite the number of times he’s gotten stuffed full of his father’s cock. But John also likes teasing his boy because of it.

If the kid can’t say it himself, he must not need it that bad. He can wait a little longer, John decides, turning his attention back to his oldest.

“Oh yeah?” John nuzzles the skin behind Dean’s ear with his nose, looking over the freckled shoulder at his youngest. “How badly do you want it, Sammy?” His fingers pinch and rub Dean’s nipple as his lips press to the exposed neck.

“Is this what you need, baby boy?” John taunts his younger son.

Dean presses into John’s hand when it leaves his nipple to circle fingers around his aching shaft. He whines and arches, thrusting his hips forward.

Sam whines as he watches his brother being played with. “Daddy, please.” His hand mindlessly drifts down toward where his little prick is hard and demanding attention.

“Sam!” John says harshly.

Sam whines and twists his head to bury his face in the pillows. His fingers stretch out in mid air then tangle together as his hands fall to the mattress in front of him. “Daddy,” he sobs pitifully.

“Do you want me to do this to you?” John murmurs as he lifts Dean’s top leg up, keeping it in place with his forearm as his hand moves back to stroke Dean’s cock. It leaves his oldest perfectly on display for Sam. “Come on, Sammy, look at Dean.”

Sam peaks out from his pillow refuge and whimpers. Dean is splayed open beautifully, and John knows his son can see where his brother’s hole is stretched wide around blue silicone.

“Hold yourself open, Dean,” John whispers. It takes a few moments for his son to comply, but as soon as he does, John moves to the plug’s base. He toys with it for a while, twisting and pulling out the fattest cock head. He extends his neck and watches Dean's hole stretch wide over it before pinching loosely at the short section between the thickest and middle bulbs of the toy. And then John shoves it back in. Dean is practically sobbing in his arms.

Sam is nearly vibrating with need; his hands are fisting in the sheets to keep them from touching himself.

“Daddy,” Dean breathes out brokenly, “Daddy, please.” It saps the last of John’s will power. He tugs the plug out faster than he should, each of the three silicone cock heads wetly slopping past the ring of muscle. John only spends a moment admiring the way his oldest son’s hole stays loose with a sticky shine and the shadow of his insides. And then he thrusts fully into his little boy’s gaping hole.

“F-fuck!” John growls out as he sinks balls deep into Dean. “Oh, fuck, baby boy. You’re so hot inside.”

His son whimpers and grips his leg tight. “Daddy,” he takes a calming breath and clenches his muscles around John’s huge cock. “Does it feel good inside me, Daddy?”

John groans; his oldest is such a cock tease.

“Is my slutty hole tight enough?” Dean grinds his hips back, body shuddering as John’s thick cock head presses firmly against his prostate.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart,” John murmurs, fingers digging into Dean’s hip. It’s taking all his control not to fuck his little boy into the mattress. It’s all he can do to stay still and remember this show is for Sammy. “How does he look, Sammy? How does your big brother look hanging on Daddy’s cock?”

Sam’s fingers reach out, itching to touch the miles of skin on display. He doesn’t touch though; Daddy didn’t say he could yet. “H-he…” Sam stutters, a blush racing across his face. He knows Daddy wants an answer, but he can’t think. Can barely breath, the show in front of him is just… “He’s, mmmph!” Sam thrusts his hips uselessly into the air.

John licks and bites the juncture of Dean’s neck and shoulder. “Sammy, tell Dean what he looks like,” he orders. “I won’t fuck him until you do.” He smirks at the twin groans the comment gets him; he loves being able to torment both his boys at the same time.

“Sammy,” Dean gasps. “Baby boy, please!” he begs. “D-Daddy feels so damn good. He’s so long and thick, stretching me open, ah-uh!” He whimpers as his dad’s cock twitches inside him. “Don’t you want it, too, Sammy? Want it in your cock hungry hole?”

Dean has a gift for dirty talk, John thinks. Since they first started this, Dean’s mouth spews a litany of filth. He babbles endlessly about naughty acts and dirty descriptions, whereas Sam is much more reserved with his words. He instead makes small helpless noises in his throat. Not to say that John doesn’t infinitely enjoy his small son’s whimpers. He does very much, but hearing that soft voice murmur naughty things, John doesn’t think he will ever get enough.

“Hush, sweetheart,” John whispers huskily into Dean’s skin. “If Sammy just wants to watch you warm my cock all day, I’m not going to complain.”

Dean shivers and whines softly at the thought of being Daddy’s cock sock and wonders what that would feel like. To be impaled all day, to keep Daddy’s thick dick warm and comfy in his wet hole. “Can we do that?” he asks softly, “N-not, not today, but… sometime?”

John reaches a hand to cup Dean’s jaw; he pulls his son’s head around so that he can look into his little boy’s vivid green eyes. “Is that what you want to try, baby boy?” he asks, pressing a gentle kiss to Dean’s lips. “You want to be my perfect little cock sock for a day?” his voice is low and gruff; he’s getting even more turned on at the thought of using his son like that.

“We’ll have a lazy day, you boys naked with wet, dripping holes.” He kisses Dean again, thumb stroking over a freckled cheek. “You’ll sit in my lap, stuffed full of Daddy’s cock, Sammy getting stretched out on my fingers.”

Dean moans and chases after his dad’s mouth, wanting to kiss it.

“H-he’s sexy!” Sam squeaks out, shocking both John and Dean with the outburst. Sam sniffs and gasps, pulling his lips to one side and biting nervously at them. The blush on Sam’s face has spread down his neck; Dean’s willing to bet it’s spreading down his baby brother’s chest under his shirt, too.

“His hole is…” Sam ducks his head, “It- it’s stretched, red and puffy.” His eyes peak up from beneath his bangs to look at them. “Itlooksotightaroundyourbigdick!” Sam finishes in a rush. He quickly hides his face back in his pillow and tries not to die of embarrassment.

John figures he could tease both his boys a little more, but is reluctant to make Sam repeat himself. It’s the dirtiest think he’s ever heard come out of his youngest son’s lips, and the poor boy is looking like he wants a hole in the ground to swallow him up.

Instead, he pulls away and slams his hips into Dean’s, his cock pressing deeply into his son. Dean wails as his entire body is rocked by the force. John doesn’t let up though, thrusting almost harshly into his son’s beautiful body, angling his hips with every back and forth motion, trying to find that spongy little gland that will send Dean over the edge with pleasure.

Both his boys are like that, John has noticed. Their prostates are so very sensitive, Dean slightly more so than Sam, but still incredibly attuned for pleasure. When he goes shopping for Sam, he might just pick up a new plug for Dean, too. Have both his boys whimpering from their new plugs, writhing in their beds as their prostates are milked. They would be sobbing and wet and messy and desperate in the mornings, crying for release and begging to get fucked.

The image invigorates John and he thrusts all the harder into his oldest, pushing the boy on to his stomach and yanking his hips up to meet every thrust. He’s on his knees, hands guiding, helping his boy fuck himself on Daddy’s big dick.

Sam is wide eyed as he watches his big brother getting fucked; he reaches out a hand to the one Dean has clawed into the sheets. He tangles their fingers together and whimpers as Dean sobs out his pleasure.

“Daddy!” Dean bites his lip, trying to gain enough control to beg his father. “D-Daddy, please!” The words are harsh and sound like they’ve been torn out of Dean’s throat. “Let me… ahha! Let me come. Daddy, please!”

His son is so wrecked, John thinks, fingers gripping Dean’s hips so tight there isn’t even a chance there won’t be bruises on them. He leans down over his son’s back, sliding his hands up the front of Dean’s chest, fingers wrapping over the top of his son’s freckled shoulders. He pulls his boy back onto him, not getting quite as deep as before, but it’s worth it to be able to whisper in Dean’s ear. “That’s it, baby boy. Shoot your hot come for Daddy.”

 _Permission granted._ It flashes in big red letters all through Dean’s brain, the message traveling through his body with lightning speed. His balls take no time deciphering the message and begin to tense up. His entire body goes ridged, the sensation starting in his toes, causing them to curl, his fingers likewise. It moves through his arms and legs, sending tingles through his torso that center in his groin.

Dean screams out his climax into the pillow. It seems to go on for so long that when his muscles finally relax, Dean’s not sure it really is over. He can still feel small twitches and shivers running through him.

John pulls out of his son as gently as he can; his control is hanging by a thread, but he still manages to settle his oldest down into the mattress. He moves away from his fucked out boy, admiring the view for a few moments more.

One of Dean’s legs is pulled up to the side, giving John an amazing view of his boy’s puffy red and fucked loose hole. It’s twitching and clenching, still wanting more. John reaches over to his side table and pulls open the drawer where he keeps the boys’ spare plugs. They’re rarely used and are usually for when the boys follow him to bed and forget their plugs in the hall bathroom.

He pulls out the blue one and spreads a little lube on it. Pulling Dean’s cheeks apart, he sets the tip against the gaping rim and slides the silicone in easily. Seating the plug in snuggly, John pats and strokes Dean’s perfect little ass.  “Okay, Sammy,” he says, pulling away from Dean entirely and pushing his youngest onto his back, “it’s your turn.”

John tugs the shirt Sam wears up to his waist and drops his head down between Sam’s thighs. He opens his mouth and takes his little boy’s cock easily. It’s just the right size that he takes the full length of his little prick, and after stretching his jaw wide enough, he sucks Sam’s balls in, too. He loves how his cock is so light on his tongue, and he laps around the delicate skin gently.

John cannot wait for the day his little boy has seed of his own; he can’t even begin to image how sweet little Sammy will taste. At his young age, John can only taste the salt of sweat and the faint hint of skin that is simply Sam.

And since last night when Dean mentioned that Sammy wants a bigger plug, John hasn’t gotten the thought out of his head. He can’t stop thinking about working a thicker, longer plug into his little boy. He can’t stop picturing that tiny hole being pulled so wide open by a new toy.

John wonders if his ass will still close up as soon as the toy is removed, or if such a big one will finally be able to stretch his son open enough to stay loose for John to fuck. And he’s not sure which thought is hotter: Sam’s hole pinching shut as soon as he’s empty again, ready to squeeze his daddy’s cock as tight as always; or pulling that fat toy out and seeing Sam’s hole gaping wide, stretched open around nothing, insides wet and dark as John peers in.

John presses his entire face fully into Sam’s crotch, and Sam lets out these giggly moans when he feels his dad’s beard roughly scraping his bare pelvis, his thighs, even his taint. His body vibrates with the groans that shake his past his father’s throat.

The day John tastes his little boy’s first drop of seed, he’s going shopping.

Movement wrenches John’s attention back to his sons; Dean hasn’t quite recovered enough for another round, but he’s getting there. His oldest doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands.

Dean slips his fingers beneath the shirt and pets his brother’s tummy, pinching those cute little nipples. His fingers slide back down and tangle in John’s dark hair. Dean scratches his blunt nails down John’s sideburns and runs his fingertips down the side of his face, stroking where the man’s cheeks hollow from sucking on Sammy’s little cock.

John moans as the callused fingers stroke over his lips and pulls a couple inches off of Sam. Dean’s fingers continue touching, moving to the newly exposed wet flesh of his baby brother’s cock. John moves back down, taking Dean’s fingers in with the last inches of his youngest and it’s his boys that moan this time. He pulls back again, swiping his tongue over Sam’s slit and Dean’s finger knuckle.

Dean’s fingers slip out from his father’s mouth and leave a wet trail down his chin in their wake. They play around with the base of Sammy’s green plug. Dean watches his little brother’s face as he presses against the toy and rocks it back and forth. Sam whimpers and grips the sheets beneath him, rocking his little prick harder into his dad’s mouth.

Dean smirks when he hears his dad gag on the sudden pressure in his throat. He uses the flat of his palm this time and presses harder, his own cock filling back up as he watches his little brother fuck up into their dad’s face, causing more wet sounds to choke past Dad’s sloppy lips.

Dean’s hips twitch back and forth, subconsciously in sync with Sam’s movement, as his palm drags the base of Sam’s plug in a circular motion. Sam throws his head back into the pillow with a cry, tousled hair sticking to his face as he tries to yell ‘Dean’ or ‘Daddy’ – Dean isn’t sure which the boy means to call out because only the first letter passes his lips; the rest is cut off by a wail of pleasure shaking his small frame.

His hips stutter and slam into their dad’s face, Dean’s hand following to keep up his ministrations on the boy’s ass. Dean’s Metallica shirt hangs wide open beneath him, tail of it half covering their dad’s face at his crotch. After a few half thrusts further up, Sam’s body falls back to the mattress with a thud. Their dad holds his hips steady when Sam tries closing his legs and blocking their touches. But Dad keeps his face buried in the crevice of Sam’s pelvis until the boy goes limp, legs falling away from the sides of his dad’s head.

There are half strangled whimpers coming out of Sam’s slack mouth. His hips are twitching slightly, and Dean knows that Daddy is still sucking on his baby brother’s softening dick. Sam’s whines are a bit intoxicating, and Dean can’t help but shuffle closer on the bed, kissing his brother’s forehead so he can be closer to those sounds.

Sam whines and sobs; his hands look so small against Daddy as they try to push his head away. “T-too much.”

“Shhh, Sammy,” Dean murmurs, watching as his father pulls off and starts to lick Sam from base to tip. “You can take it just a little longer.”

Sam frantically shakes his head back and forth on the pillow, sobbing and crying out. “No,” his fingers try in vain to protect his oversensitive shaft, try to tuck the shirt between his skin and his father’s wet mouth.

“Stop.” It’s barely a whisper in Sam’s throat, but it has John instantly pulling away and moving to take his son into his arms.

“You did so good, baby boy,” he says against his younger son’s shoulder, pressing kisses to the soft skin exposed by the wide neck hole. The shirt is damp with the sweet smell of Sam’s sweat. “You’re such a good boy for Daddy.” John turns his youngest so that they’re back to chest and watches as Dean settles closer in the space right in front of Sam.

“You’re so damn cute, little brother,” Dean grins then kisses Sam’s slightly parted lips, and John can see his tongue moving to lick Sam open a bit more.

It really is taking all of John’s will power to keep his touch gentle. Sam is still tender, occasionally twitching from his dry orgasm; and while Dean is recovering quickly, he’s not at 100 percent yet.

His sons are lethargic and mellow from their release, lying limply in his arms. He forces himself to breath slowly in and out. Sam’s perfect little ass is right there, his cock pressing firmly into the crease of it. And God help him he’s no saint, but it’s taking everything he has not to rip the green silicone from that pink pucker and replace it with his dick.

His hand moves over each of his boys, petting them both. But it’s gotten to the point where John can’t take it anymore, so he slides his hand between his and Sam’s bodies. His fingers quickly search out the base of the plug nestled between the soft globes of flesh. He teases it for a moment or two.

Sam makes these little whimpering sounds in the back of his throat as his dad wriggles and tugs on the toy inside him. It’s easing out slowly, his hole stretching so wide over the bulb and then it’s out. He whines and arches back, wanting to be filled again.

John rolls his boy forward into Dean because he has to look; he needs to see what that little opening between Sam’s cheeks looks like. Tugging flesh firmly away from Sam’s center, he rises to his elbow to see.

And of course that little hole is clenched shut, just as it always is. That damn muscle of skin has the elasticity of a brand new rubber band. The wrinkled entrance is red and wet with lube and there’s only a pinpoint of darkness where his body remains open.

All John can think about is how tight his sweet little son is going to grab his cock with that muscle. John bites out a groan and grips the base of his cock to control the wave of pleasure he gets from the sight of Sam’s ass, and he slips the tip of one finger in just to feel the grip around him.

“Daddy,” Sam says softly, grinding his hips back. “Empty.” Even when the plug is stuffing him, it's not enough. No toy could ever feel the same as Daddy's hot cock.

John squeezes his dick once more, and then pulls Sam around to face him as he rolls onto his back, the boy tucked into his side now. He arranges a few pillows behind him and leans against them.

“Dean,” His son’s head perks up, instantly ready to follow orders. “Why don’t you help Sammy sit on my lap?”

Sam whines, embarrassed, as Dean grins into his neck. His brother sits up, tugging Sam along with him until they both straddle their father, and Dean whispers to him, “You want Daddy inside you, right?”

“Uh-huh, so empty. Need it,” Sam breathes as he leans his weight on his hands at his dad’s chest. Dean holds his hips steady, slowly lowering Sam to the tip of the rigid cock beneath him.

“Then be a good little boy,” his voice deepens at Sam’s ear, “and ride Daddy’s lap.”

“You get to do all the work, sweet boy,” John pets his fingers up Sam’s thighs comfortingly. Sam groans and ducks his head to hide behind his bangs. There’s just something unfairly sexy about making such an innocent boy work his tight hole on his daddy’s cock, and John can’t help but take advantage of that.

“Okay, Daddy,” Sam concedes. He lets Dean guide his hips down and gasps when his dad’s cock stretches him open.

John moans at the tightness, holding the base of his cock tight until his fist is in the way. He pulls back so Dean can push Sam down until the boy lets his entire body go limp against Dean. “There we go, you’re such a good little boy,” he praises his brother.

“You feel better? You feel full yet, sweetheart?” John asks, and Sam barely nods his head before letting it fall against Dean’s shoulder.

“Well, go on then, little brother. Ride it,” Dean directs after giving Sam enough time to adjust to their dad’s cock. He presses into Sam’s back and wraps his arms around him, bucking his hips just enough to make Sam move. Sam humphs as he lifts his hips, slowly gliding up their dad’s cock until he can’t sit up any further, and then the boy drops himself down hard with a cry.

And he repeats, raising himself slowly, slamming down roughly, crying out every time he gets impaled by their dad’s thick cock. Dad arches his neck back, forcing his head into the pillow, clenching his eyes and jaw shut, and Dean knows the reason his dad isn’t watching his cock disappear inside Sam yet is because he'll lose his load if he looks.

Dean gazes down Sam’s body; the old shirt is more damp than dry by now. While it sticks hot where Dean’s arms encompass Sam’s ribs, his little brother’s cock is completely hidden. The shirt hangs loosely past his stomach, and every drop has warm air rushing between Sam’s body and the cloth before it bunches up atop Sam’s thighs. And when Sam rises up again, the shirt hangs off his body; Dean can’t help but slide his hands under the fabric, smoothing them over his baby brother’s hot skin.

He drags his nails feather-light up Sam’s sides, making his brother’s nipples perk up with a shiver. Dean pinches and rolls hard rosebuds between the pads of his thumbs and forefingers, making Sam mewl into Dean’s ear.

Sam slows his movements until he’s only rutting his ass back and forth on his dad’s lap, and he tries to lean forward into Dean’s hands. Dean grins at Sam; his little brother is so beautiful; all needy and desperate. Sliding one hand down, he presses his wide palm against his brother’s belly to keep the boy leaning against him.

Dean feels it then; with every backward rock of his hips, he can feel the slight distention in Sam’s tummy. His dad’s dick is so big that it’s stretching his baby brother everywhere, filling him completely and bulging from Sam’s insides.

Dean moans into Sam’s neck and rubs Sam’s stomach, pressing hard to feel his dad inside his little brother, making both Sam and Dad moan at the sensation. “God, Sammy! That’s Daddy’s dick. That’s Daddy dick all the way inside you,” Dean bites into Sam’s neck.

Sam’s breath is ragged with the exertion of riding his dad’s cock. He barely forces out his agreement, “Ah-uh, yeah…”

“Tell me, Sammy. Tell me how full you are,” Dean coaxes, dragging his thumb over the spot he’s sure is the crown of his dad’s cock, if the open mouthed groan is any indication.

“D-Dean,” he stutters. “N-no, ah!” Sam gasps when Dean thrusts his hard cock against the crease of his ass. Dean himself gasps at the movement, too; not just from the sweet friction against his erection, but from the way his plug rubs against his wet, fucked-out inner walls.

“You’re doing so well, Sammy. Say it. Be a good boy and tell us,” their father interjects, tugging the shirt up to his young son’s chest and staring where Dean’s hand cradles the swell in Sam’s belly.

Cool air rushes Sam’s cock, making the little prick twitch; his muscles tighten around his father, and the man thrusts up. All three boys moan when Sam’s body arches, smooth tummy sticking out further.

“Full. So… so full, Dad-Daddy,” Sam starts with a low voice. He tries to turn into Dean’s neck, but his older brother nudges his head forward, and Dean licks and nips at Sam’s jaw line. “Keep going, sweet boy,” he encourages.

“So big. Feel it. Fuck! F-feel it h-here,” he links his fingers with Dean’s over the lump and rocks back and forth.

John growls at the sight of his sons’ linked hands rising and falling with the repeated pressure inside Sam. He holds one of Sam’s hips tight, covers their hands with one large palm, and thrusts up hard and fast. They all moan in unison, hands steady on little Sammy’s tummy as John pounds into the boy almost ruthlessly.

John can’t keep the rumble out of his voice. “More,” he demands.

Apparently, all it takes for the small boy to find some confidence is his big brother whispering encouragements in his ear, “Come on, Sammy, you can do it. Tell Daddy how it feels.”

Sam’s voice steadies, and his words are solid and firm as he speaks, “It’s filling me up. Your cock is so fat inside me, and it’s making me full. Your cock is fucking my tummy, Daddy. Feels so good, so deep. Daddy, please! Touch me!”

John doesn’t hesitate; he slides his hand from Sam’s stomach to his cock and palms the boy. He rubs circles around his son’s cock and tucks his fingers down to slide around his balls as they rub along John’s skin.

He hears his boy whine and tuck his face in his brother’s neck with a whisper of his name. John is always amazed that his boys understand each other just by the way they speak each other’s names. He watches Dean kiss his brother’s cheek and nibble on his neck for a moment before directing his attention to John, “He wants you to use the shirt, Dad.”

Dean gently tugs the others’ hands away, easing his own down his baby brother’s body last. He lets the shirt fall over Sam’s body and pulls John’s hands over the material covering the boy’s cock. “He likes the way it feels. All rough and dry. Right, baby brother?” Dean nudges his brother with his hips. Sam whines and nods his head once, but keeps his red face hidden from his father.

John stares at the side of his youngest boy’s face as he rubs again, makes small circles with steady pressure, ducks his fingers down over the boy’s covered sac. And his boy moans and rocks into his hand, squeezing his body tighter around John’s cock.

“That what you like, Sammy?” he questions gently, wanting to see his shy boy’s face. When Sam barely nods in response, John tries again. “C’mon, sweetheart. Tell Daddy or I’ll stop,” he warns.

His son immediately turns to John and nods rapidly. “Yes, Daddy, I like it. Please don’t stop. Feels good. Feels so good on my cock, Daddy,” he jumbles words out in a rush. John smiles at his son, rewarding him by palming harder through the material. “Good boy,” he whispers proudly.

Sam rocks down harder, thrusting his cock into his father’s hand with squeaky moans. He starts riding his lap again, using his legs to lift his body and slam down on Dad’s cock. Dean keeps his arms around his brother, tugging him down to make each drop slam their dad’s dick deeper than the last. And he nips at the boy’s ear and neck, licks along his soft jaw line, and groans when his own plug shifts inside him.

“Bet that feels so good, huh, little brother,” Dean begins teasing. He speaks in a deep whisper, voice rough with lust. “You like how my shirt feels on your prick? Daddy’s hand making it rough enough for you?”

Sam groans at his brother’s words, and John watches and listens to his two sons. Dean’s hands find Sam’s nipples through the fabric and tweak and twist as he taunts, “You just love how that feels on your tiny little cock, don’t you? My cute little brother with your baby cock always so dry.”

“Dean,” Sam whines out. The boy is so sensitive about his young cock, John knows, but that never stops his older son from teasing the kid.

“Are you gonna come? You gonna come and nothing will come out, baby boy?” Dean continues. “Shuddup,” Sam tries to say firmly, but half the word comes as a squeak when Dean tugs the boy’s skin straight out, and his body tries to push forward in search of relief.

“Ahh, Dean! That hurts, Dean!” he complains, but his youngest keeps his hands on John’s stomach and moves faster on his cock. Sam breathes fast and clenches his eyes shut, letting out cut off cries with every drop of his hips and every pull of Dean’s fingers.

“Look so pretty on Daddy’s cock. Riding Daddy while he rubs your little boy dick. Such a cute little boy, baby. Come dry for us.”

“De-Dad, ah,” Sam tries to speak, but Dean keeps tugging and teasing.  John sees how close his boy is, so he leans forward enough to slide a hand behind his son’s back and press Sam’s dick further in his palm.

“Yeah, little brother. Your dry little cock is gonna come, and you won’t even make a mess on my shirt. That’s it; let your pretty baby prick come,” Dean bites into his brother’s neck hard; he laves his tongue over the area in apology before doing it again. The second bite earns him a whine; the third, a whimper; the fourth, a keening moan. All the while, John whispers his own encouragement to his youngest.

“C’mon, son. Come for me. Come on your daddy’s dick,” John can’t help but add. He thrusts up harder, making Dean bounce with a grunt and Sam with a cry. His youngest boy grips so tight around his cock with his body, John doesn’t know how he’s lasted this long, but he knows he can make it longer. He knows he isn’t done with his little boy yet.

Sam thrusts a couple more times before his body shakes and he shouts as his hips jerk. John feels his son’s hole convulse around his cock and prick pulse under his palm. He bites his lip to stave himself from coming and rubs his boy through his orgasm, keeping his son in motion with the hand at Sam’s back.

Sam slouches forward, sucking air into his lungs as his dad rocks his hips and his brother soothes his sore nipples. He wants to lean forward and rest; his legs shake beneath him wearily. But Dean tugs him back towards his chest and lifts the shirt up his body, holding it at his chest.

“Look at that, baby brother. Your dry little cock is getting soft. Can’t even tell you came!” Dean pinches two fingers at the base of Sam’s cock and squeezes, receiving a whine in protest and a red cheek against his neck. “Oh, Sammy, what’s a matter? You embarrassed about your dry little boy cock?”

“Dean,” Sam cries. He tries to pull Dean’s fingers away and drop the shirt over himself, but Dean swats his hands away. Sam buries his face deeper in his brother’s skin and lets his brother and father move his body as they please, moaning when his dad continues to hit his prostate.

“You wish you had a wet cock like Daddy and me?” Dean rubs his thumb over the slit of Sam’s cock. Sam nods with a grumble and thrusts his soft prick into Dean’s hand.

Dean chuckles at his little brother; he’ll never get over how cute the boy is when he’s self-conscious about his dick. But he also loves taking care of the kid, making him smile until those dimples grace his beautiful face and those eyes look up at him all sparkly.

He moves without warning, making his dad groan and his brother yelp in surprise; he barely bites back the cry from forcing his own plug to pull at his walls. He tugs Sam and himself off their dad’s lap, and they fall sideways onto the mattress.

John stares in confusion – and frustration because he was close – as Dean turns Sam on his back and straddles his brother’s hips. He doesn’t bother questioning his oldest son, though, when he sees Sam automatically spread his legs in wait. John fills the space between Sam’s legs in a heartbeat, working himself back inside his little boy and lifting Sam’s legs until his knees bend over John’s elbows.

“De, what are you-” Dean cuts off his brother with a kiss, lifting the t-shirt to his small chest and scooting down so his own cock hangs over Sam’s. “Hush, little brother. I’m gonna help you, okay? I’m gonna get your cock wet,” he says before taking his brother’s lips in another kiss.

Dad lifts his arms, trying to get deeper without upsetting Dean’s position. Sam wiggles his hips a bit, using his dad’s arms for leverage. Dean does his own shuffling to accommodate the other two; and just like a puzzle, they fit, Dad sliding even deeper inside his youngest.

Both boys moan together as their father thrusts into Sam. Dean’s ass is in line with Sam’s body, and every time his dad buries himself in Sam, his lower stomach bounces into Dean’s plug. He pulls away from his brother. “Watch, little brother. Watch me get your cock all wet,” he breathes out.

Dean wraps one hand around the back of Sam’s neck and tilts his brother’s head up so he can look down their bodies. Wrapping his other hand around his shaft, Dean pumps his fist up and down, slow and firm, so that his tip stays pointed down at Sam’s dry prick. He spreads his knees a little wider on either side of Sam and his plug shifts.

Every hit of his dad makes his plug brush his sweet spot, and it doesn’t take long for the toy to milk him slowly. Dean can’t help but drop his forehead to Sam’s shoulder with a groan, and both he and Sam watch with baited breath as Dean’s cock drips at every press of their dad’s hips. Murky fluid strings down Dean’s tip and lands on Sam’s flushed skin.

“Dean,” Sam gasps as his cock slowly gets covered with more and more of his brother’s spill. Only Dean’s hand at the base of his skull keeps his head up, and the sight of their wet cocks has Sam grinding into his dad’s pelvis. With one hand, he digs his nails into Dean’s side; with the other, he reaches to his brother’s leaking cock. Dean lets him wrap his small fingers around the base, and he thrusts lightly into Sam’s grip.

“Squeeze it, little brother,” Dean barely speaks as he takes his hand away from himself; Sam moans and makes a tight fist. He holds on tighter to Dean’s waist as he moves his hand up and down. With every stroke to the tip, come pearls and drips and strings past his brother’s slit and warms Sam. The harder their dad fucks into Sam and slams against Dean’s plug, the shakier each boy gets, gasping and moaning as they watch their own cocks.

“Look at that, Sammy,” his brother groans; Dean dips his fingers in the pool of wetness that covers Sam’s prick and belly. He breathes over Sam’s nipple, “Look at your wet little cock. That’s what it will look like when you make your own seed, baby boy. Your cock will make a mess just like this.”

Sam uses his father’s grip to push his ass up and rub their cocks together, crying out when Dean’s cock smears the mess into his skin and Dad hits deeper inside him. His brother only falters for a few seconds before he continues, rubbing the warm pre-come into Sam’s skin as he speaks, “Feel like a big boy now, Sammy? With your tiny prick all wet? Feel like a big boy with a wet little dick, just like Daddy and big brother?”

Sam works Dean faster with a frustrated huff, and Dean manages to chuckle between moans as his cock leaks and his prostate thrums with pleasure. He lifts his head to see his little brother’s face, smiling as Sam looks at him with a wide mouth and hooded eyes. He leans down to delve his tongue past those inviting lips and kiss Sam deeply.

“Answer me, little brother,” he whispers as he pulls back. “You like your cock wet?” Sam jerks his head up and down and pulls his gaze from Dean’s face back down to their pelvises. “Thank you, Dean. I…,” he pauses, biting his lower lip until one side is redder and thicker than the other. “It looks pretty. I like it.”

“Good, little brother,” Dean smiles in satisfaction, and Sam quirks his half abused lip up in return. Dean can’t help but kiss his brother again, distracted from his father’s thrusting by the pleasant feeling in his chest that he only gets when he makes his little brother happy.

He’s brought back to physical pleasure as his dad wraps one large hand around a hip and tugs Dean back in time for a particularly hard thrust to rattle the blue silicone deeper inside him. Their father moans as Dean and Sam cry into one another’s mouths. Dean pulls away from his brother and looks down just in time to see a rope of pre-come shoot across his hand on Sam’s belly. He only wastes a second tugging the shirt further up Sam’s chest before smearing his sticky fluid around Sam’s navel.

Listening to his boys moan, listening to Dean teasing his little brother, watching them kiss, has John inching towards his climax, and he speeds up his motions. He aims for his youngest son’s prostate with every snap of his hips, and tries to get Dean’s body at the perfect angle for his plug to pound the boy’s prostate the hardest. John wants nothing more than to make both his sons come before he fills his little boy with his seed.

Both boys moan and shout without reserve in front of him, and John watches as Sam’s jaw quivers and Dean’s body shakes with goose bumps; every inch of skin in sight has the slightest shine of sweat. The hair along the nape of Dean’s neck mattes to his son’s skin; hair that usually sticks to the center of Sam’s forehead is spiked out and up in wet clumps, looking like Dean wiped it out of the boy’s eyes earlier. But there is still hair plastered around Sam’s temples.

His youngest son catches his eyes and cries out, “I’m close, Daddy. I’m so close. Please! Harder, Daddy!” Sam rocks his hips as best as he can and tugs on John’s arms with his legs, trying to get closer to the man. John bites the inside of his cheek until he’s sure he won’t explode. Sam’s tongue always seems to come loose the closer he gets to orgasm, and John wants to hold out long enough to hear what other filth he can make his little boy spew.

He thrusts hard into his little boy, lower belly smacking into Dean’s ass. “Come on, boy,” he speaks to his oldest. He drops one of Sam’s legs in order to grab Dean better and maneuver the boy as he likes. He pushes his older son’s hips down further so that Dean’s cock rubs against Sam’s wet prick. Sam pulls his hand out from between their bodies and wraps both arms tightly around Dean.

John slaps Dean’s ass just to hear the boy sob, and his fingers drift over the same cheek to delve into the smooth crevice, searching for the silicone base. “Daddy wants to see his pretty little boys come,” he growls. John angles his cock and the plug to hit both his sons’ prostates perfectly and watches as they fall over the edge one right after another.

Dean is first, spilling with a shout as Sam’s short shaft rubs along his; his cock twitches and spurts out what’s left from the plug milking him. Sam shakes with his third orgasm as Dean’s warm seed splatters across his tummy and halfway up his chest, barely missing the t-shirt. His cock twitches, though nothing comes out, and his legs squeeze his father closer.

It makes John grunt, slamming deeply into his baby boy as that tight little asshole clamps around his cock. And in the throes of his climax, his little boy seems to find confidence because he begs his father, “Please come, Daddy! Feed my hole! Feed my tummy with your come, Daddy, please!”

Hearing his 12 year old boy scream those words has John shouting as his own orgasm rips through him. He explodes, slamming his hips forward and shooting his load deep inside his boy’s hole, straight into Sam’s little tummy. John thrusts hard against his boys as they cry out beneath him.

He hunches over and leans into Dean, and poor, fucked out Dean sobs with overstimulation as his father continues pounding against his plug. And below him, Sam gasps and squeezes his brother with every thrust his little body takes. But his sons moan and shake so prettily beneath him that John can’t stop coming. Sam holds John’s cock inside him and milks every drop of come from his heavy cock.

After a few minutes, John’s motions gentle until he only rocks his hips into his sons. His arms nearly buckle under his weight; he doesn't want to crush his boys, so he locks his arms and sits back on his haunches.

John watches as the boys pant tiredly and slight tremors run through their bodies. He takes a deep breath and gently begins pulling his softening shaft out of Sam. “Clench, little boy. Hold my come inside you,” he murmurs at his youngest.

He withdraws slowly and carefully; the boy still whimpers despite the care John takes in pulling out. He shushes Sam and watches as his cock comes out almost clean. His little boy’s irritated muscle wipes his cock of white seed. John’s mouth hangs open in a gasp at the sight.

Sam’s red hole closes as soon as his tip pops out; only a drop of white pearls past the wrinkled rim because his muscle is tightly shut again after being stretched so thoroughly. “Still so fucking tight,” John whispers without realizing. He spends another moment kneeling between four thin legs to catch his breath before he pulls away and collapses onto his side next to his sons.

John pats Dean's ass deliberately, aiming for the base of the blue silicone. Dean's body tightens and he shudders with a bit-off whine. "Off, Dean," John instructs, hand guiding his oldest to lie on the opposite side of his brother.

As his son complies, John moves to get the spare green plug from his bedside table. Turning back, he watches Dean nuzzle into his brother’s wet neck, kissing where the younger boy’s collar shines past dark fabric; both of them watch John’s movements in wait.

John presses along Sam’s side and tugs one leg over his thigh; Dean does the same with Sam’s other leg without being told to. He kisses his son’s chest soothingly, nudging Dean’s shirt above one of Sam’s abused nipples and licking it once. When Sam arches into his lips, he gives the boy another lick before pulling away to look down his son’s body.

He brings the plug to Sam’s belly and the boys both moan as their father rolls the toy around the mess there until the soft silicone has a decent coating of come. “Lucky little brother. You get Daddy’s come and mine sealed inside you,” Dean smiles up at Sam.

Sam only whimpers; a thick string connects the toy to Sam’s belly as John pulls it away from his son. All three watch wide-eyed as John lowers the green object down Sam’s pelvis, the cooling rope draping across his little prick and balls. “Don’t spill Daddy’s milk,” Dean commands as John works the silicone plug into Sam with gentle fingers.

Both John and Dean watch the young boy’s blissful face as he takes his toy all the way in with a long moan. They both soothe Sam after John pulls his hand back up the boy’s body. John licks one nipple gently as he rubs over the other bruised rosebud with a calloused thumb. Dean nips at Sam’s neck and drags his fingers around the mess on his brother’s body, shamelessly wetting his entire palm in the cooling pool.

John watches Dean nip his way up to the side of Sam’s face. “You full, Sammy?” he rasps into his brother’s ear. Sam whimpers but doesn’t speak, and John chuckles at his sons. He wonders when his youngest son will learn that Dean won’t take silence as an answer. Then again, he thinks maybe the boy just likes when his big brother teases words out of him.

Dean rubs his palm over Sam’s round stomach a couple times, and the smirk on his face is all the warning he gives before pushing Sam’s belly down to massage his brother’s abdomen. Sam’s face twists in discomfort as his body tenses – though John thinks it’s a very cute expression on his little boy – and he groans loudly at his brother.

“Dean,” he stretches the vowels in his whine. “Don’t! I‘m full!” Dean doesn’t stop his movements as he bites along Sam’s jaw line. “I’ll stop when you tell me, baby boy,” he speaks matter-of-factly.

Sam clamps his mouth in a thin line in attempt to withstand his brother’s actions, but quickly gives in when Dean’s hand wetly presses harder circles into his skin. “Yes! Yes, Dean! I’m full. My tummy’s full. It’s all full of Daddy’s come. Please stop, Dean,” he sobs by the time he gets to pleading.

Dean lets up the pressure until he is only drawing circles in the wetness with his fingertips. Sam relaxes his body after another moment and he melts into the bed between John and his brother as they both continue to soothe the youngest Winchester.

John watches his boys snuggle together, pressing so that they’re both within his arms. He smiles at them, watching them kiss each other again for comfort. He stares at their soft lips as he absentmindedly licks Sam’s hot nipple; Sam is all cute giggles as Dean grins and bumps his nose all over his little brother’s face. The boys whisper to one another just loud enough for their father to hear, and gentle words fill the air.

“So pretty, Sammy. So full of Daddy’s come…”

“Full, Dean. All full. So much. Feels so good, Dean...”

“So pretty. So so pretty, my little baby brother…”

Their words draw John’s attention to the rumble in his stomach. And while he wants nothing more than to sleep and run his hands over sweet skin for the rest of the day, John figures he should feed his boys – real food – while they have a full-equipped kitchen.

“What do you boys want for breakfast?” he asks, pressing his lips to the side of Sam’s neck, then to Dean’s cheek.

“Pancakes!” “Waffles!”

John shakes his head as his boy speak in unison. They bicker about pancakes and waffles, the benefit of syrup, jelly or fruit. Two sets of eyes look up at him expectantly. John lets his head flop down on his pillow, there is no way he’s going to mediate this one.

But it’s not enough for his sons; they pounce on him – and how the hell they have the energy left when all John wants to do is sleep, he’ll never know. But they push him onto his back and puppy pile on top of him. They both squirm and wriggle, and John yawns as they settle. Sam’s head is on his chest and arm around his ribs, one leg curled over his hips. Dean lays half on top of Sam with his head on his brother’s shoulder. His arm is flung across John’s belly right under Sam’s and his leg thrown over John’s thigh, foot falling between his dad’s calves, toes tucking under the opposite leg.

Sure Sam is hungry, but he's also comfortable and warm between the bodies of his family; he figures food can wait a little while longer. He can already feel his eyes drooping shut, and Dean's breath is steadily slowing into a lull at the nape of his neck.

His dad's fingers run across both the arms sprawled across his body. Sam can feel each swipe of warm digits heavier until his dad's hand stills atop their forearms, and the chest beneath his head lets out one final sigh of content as it steadies into deep breathing. And he is squished between the two lax bodies, both larger than him in every way.

Sam is limp and compliant snuggled in their dad’s arms with Dean’s body blanketing him, just enjoying being surrounded by their warmth. Its times like these that he really does not mind being the smallest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, we hope you enjoyed our story! We really love and appreciate feed back and con-crit, so let us know what you thought?


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